A New Hope
by Finchlaa
Summary: When hope and her family seek refuge in the forest around Hollow Lake, she does not realize that her savior will also be her condemner to a life underground.  However, the goblins of the Hollow Kingdom aren't the only menace she has to worry about...
1. Chapter 1

**The ideas and setting all belong to Clare B. Dunkle**

****Chapter 1

Hope clutched her cloak tighter around her body to ward off the cold and pulled her hood lower over her face as it began to rain. She shivered and stared, mesmerized, into the fire, thankful for the thick branches overhead that prevented most of the rain from reaching the forest floor. She wondered grumpily how daft one had to be to choose a career that required one to spend copious amounts of time outdoors and in the cold. Especially in the rain. She grinned and told herself that the obvious solution was to move south to a warmer climate. A _much_ warmer climate.

Hope had spent nearly her entire life out of doors, often in campsites or the back of their old wagon. She had often been fleeing from one place to the next with her family. "The life of a gypsy," her mother would always say. "On the run towards the next adventure." The group often worked as a traveling show, and sang and performed whenever they were fortunate to stumble into a small village. In the bigger cities they performed jobs of a more dubious nature.

One of her companions shifted in his bedroll. She looked around their meager campsite set in a small clearing overlooking a lake. Lately, it had seemed that they had been on the run as often as not. Very few villages or towns were willing, or could afford, to pay a traveling players group. Instead, Hope's family was forced to find other means of surviving. Currently, they were avoiding some local lordling that had been offended when a few jewels mysteriously disappeared during a musical performance.

The lights of a village twinkled across the lake and Hope sighed. She would have given anything to sleep in a warm bed with real food. Her five companions were sprawled around the campfire and their horses were picketed in a line. If only she wasn't so cold. She tried to think of warm, sunny climates. Preferably with beautiful beaches and plenty of food. Hope began to nod off.

Her head snapped up as she heard a branch break. The nape of her neck prickled, as she stared into the woods outside the perimeter of light that shown from the campfire. There was nothing. She readjusted her hand position on the longbow resting on her lap and stood up.

Marak Whitewings eyed the camp from just outside the reach of the firelight. He chuckled as the woman on watch vainly attempted to stay awake and see through the darkness. She stood up and shook back her hood. Lovely, long red hair tumbled out to surround her beautiful -although very dirty, he noted- features. Arched eyebrows framed hazel eyes and long eyelashes, and a smattering of freckles emphasized her strong nose. The deep circles under her eyes told Marak that she was absolutely exhausted and she wavered on her feet as she stood up to begin pacing around the campfire. Hungry too, he decided.

The goblin king contemplated this campsite. Clearly, the group was running from something, and all of the sleeping forms had a weapon within reach, even the small childlike form had a bow and a quiver nearby.

He returned his attention the woman walking the perimeter of the campsite.

Before he could decide whether or not to take any actions, his sensitive ears picked up a disturbance in the surrounding woods. Marak tilted his head as he heard the sound of several men on horses with dogs approaching, and dropped back. From the behavior of the woman on watch, he was fairly certain that the search party was looking for this suspicious group of travelers. He urged his horse to drop back, and waited to see what would come from this encounter.

What seemed like minutes later- would morning ever arrive?- Hope jumped to her feet as she heard horses in the forests around their camp. She swiftly and quietly shook her companions awake. They woke up silently and she motioned for them to quickly saddle their horses and mount.

The sound of braying dogs approached. Hope groaned- she hated dogs- and jumped onto her own steed, Pegasus, pulling little Isabel up behind her. Her young sister was barely awake, but she knew what was happening and kept silent as she clung to her sister.

Suddenly there was yelling drew closer around them and dogs and horsemen burst into the clearing bearing lighted torches. Luckily it was a very unorganized group of searchers, and they left many gaps in their ranks. Her family, practiced at escaping from searchers, scattered in every direction. Pegasus reared and turned on his hind feet to run through a gap in the attackers. She felt something ram into her shoulder, nearly knocking her out of the saddle, and did her best to cling to the saddle with an arrow lodged in her body. She gritted her teeth and urged her horse faster.

She heard the sound of a chase behind her, and twisted to the side to move her younger sister in front of her in the saddle.

"Fly, Pegasus," Hope whispered. After a few minutes of pursuit through the woods, Pegasus flew through an opening in the trees ahead, only to come to a dead end surrounded by cliffs.

"No." She gasped through clenched teeth, and looked down at the arrow sprouting out of her shoulder. There was a surprising amount of blood soaking her shirtfront. Pain overwhelmed her, but not the pain from the arrow wound. Hope had always assumed that being shot would hurt much, much more. Instead, the young woman felt the pain of guilt and remorse for the young girl who sat silently in front of her.

"Isabel," she mumbled, "I'm so sorry," and fainted as she heard another horse gallop into the clearing.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Marak entered the clearing in time to see the woman fall from her saddle. A young girl still sat on the horse, and turned her wide eyes towards Marak. She let out a squeak when she saw his wings.

The goblin king rushed forward and turned the woman over to see an arrow protruding from her shoulder. Two other goblins followed him into the clearing on horse.

"Tudz, calm the child," Marak calmly ordered one of the goblins. "Put her to sleep if you must, but try to calm her down. Loman, set up camp and create a perimeter- we don't want any humans wandering in. We may be here until close to dawn." He turned his full attention on the unconscious woman.

Marak mostly ignored her beautiful face, with those long lashes and full, red lips, as he examined her arrow wound. He muttered under his breath as he gently grasped the arrow and slowly pulled it out. He examined the wound for any bits of cloth or wood, and waved his hand absentmindedly to conjure a small jar of thick, white cream. He smeared the wound with the healing salve, placed a hand over the small entry wound, and exerted some of his magic to mend the broken tissue.

Meanwhile, Tudz had dismounted and began to slowly approach the young human girl, not wanting to startle her. Tudz was a young, elf-pretty goblin, whose only real goblin-like features were his scaled feet, which were well covered by his boots. Even at 17, he was known as a solemn, calm, competent page of the king. Marak always requested Tudz on long supply runs for his calm demeanor and relatively human appearance.

"Hello," the goblin said softly as he approached the horse. The young girl seemed to have a hard time dragging her eyes away from Marak- she had never seen a man with wings! She finally turned and stared at Tudz. The goblin saw a very young girl of blonde hair and bleak hazel eyes. Isabel saw the prettiest man she had ever seen, even if his eyebrows pointed up the wrong way.

"My name is Tudz. What is your name, young one?"

Isabel was terrified. She had never seen someone so beautiful. Tudz also had blonde hair framing his pale face, dark blue eyes, a perfect nose, and sensitive pink lips. She gulped and looked back at the man working on her sister.

"That is Marak. He is healing your sister," Tudz continued conversationally, placing a hand on the horse and stroking his mane. "He will need more time to make sure that your sister is completely healed." He paused.

"Why don't you get off the horse and come sit by the fire," Tudz gestured towards where Loman, was starting a fire, thankful that the other goblin chosen for this supply run was rather human looking. "We have food and water."

Isabel turned to look at him again. "What are you?" She asked curiously. She blushed because had meant to ask, _who are you?_

Tudz seemed to understand, and smiled slightly. "I am a goblin." He bowed.

Isabel stared at him solemnly. "Goblins don't exist"

"Oh, but we do! There is an entire kingdom of goblins that live under this hill and under the lake."

"Is he," she gestured to the man working on her sister, "a goblin also?"

"He is a very important goblin. He is the goblin king."

"Goblin's have royalty?" Isabel asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.

"Of course," Tudz said seriously. "What sort of political hierarchy would you expect a goblin kingdom to have?" He winked at her.

Isabel decided that she liked this man- goblin she corrected herself- well enough. "My name is Isabel," she said quietly, as she slipped off the horse. Tudz gently took her hand and steered her towards the fire. Isabel briefly looked at Loman as she sat down, but he had his hood pulled over his face. She looked away before she had a good look at his hands, which looked distinctly claw-like.

"Isabel, what a pretty name," Tudz smiled down at her. He settled her down near the fire and brought some food from his saddlebag; dried meat, hard bread and cheese, an apple and water skin.

Her eyes widened as she looked at all the food he held. "All of that is for me?"

Tudz grinned at her. "There's even more if you want it," he said conspiratorially. He watched as she ate everything he brought her, and wondered when she had last seen a decent meal. In between mouthfuls, Isabel continued asking Tudz questions about the goblins.

Marak eventually picked up the young woman and brought her over to the fire when he finished healing her. He tenderly wrapped her in his cloak, and cushioned her head with saddlebag.

"She lost a lot of blood. The arrow perforated one of her lungs, and it may take a few weeks for her to recover full lung capacity." He sighed and rubbed a hand over his eyes. "She needs a few days of rest, but she will probably wake up in the morning. At least she won't be in too much pain."

"But she is going to be ok?" A small voice quavered from across the campfire.

Marak had all but forgotten the young girl who had also been in the clearing. He smiled at her tiredly. "Yes, she is going to be just fine after some good rest and food. We haven't been introduced yet. My name is Marak."

The young girl squared her shoulders, and took in the full view of the goblin king who had startled her earlier. He was a very tall, imposing man with large, white, feathered wings sprouting from his shoulders. In place of hair, he had a crest of white feathers. His eyes were nearly all black pupils surrounded by a ring of amber, and he had a very large nose. His eyebrows were also white feathers. "Yes, Marak the goblin king. My name is Isabel. And that is my sister, Hope."

Marak smiled again. Hope- what a fitting name, he thought to himself.

"Thank you kindly for your help, and the food. I can take care of my sister from here," Isabel continued tentatively, looking from Marak to Tudz. "You've already helped enough."

Tudz briefly glanced at his king before replying. "Isabel, how would you like to come back to our kingdom with us? You could live in the palace and become a page, like me, and go on adventures all over the kingdom."

Isabel looked down for a moment, and her shoulders slumped. "You're only asking me to be polite, aren't you? Do we have a choice?"

The king sighed and reflected on how intelligent this young girl was. "_You_ have a choice, Isabel. Hope, however, will return to my castle with us. To become my wife."

Isabel stared at him, and then nodded, as if she had expected something along these lines. She looked exhausted. She smiled sadly, looking down at her hands. "She _really_ won't like that, you know. Hope is a free spirit. She says that she never wants to be tied down by marriage."

"Isabel," Marak said kindly. "I am offering you a very pleasant life in my kingdom. You will be surrounded by goblins your own age, you will have a home, and you will be with your sister. You will never starve, never be chased by guards, and never be shot at."

Hope was slowly beginning to wake up. She heard voices around her- something about goblins? She must have had a worse fall than she thought- and felt the warmth of a fire nearby. Hope lay very still as she tried to recall what had happened. She remembered being shot while fleeing from the guards, and being cornered against a cliff wall. The search party must have found her, she thought.

She listened to the voices around her, trying to organize her thoughts into a coherent escape plan. She heard mention of wives and more goblins. Hope wondered whether they were speaking in code. She heard a younger voice drift into the conversation that she recognized as her sister's voice.

"Why do you want to marry my sister, anyways? No luck with the goblin women," Isabel asked sardonically.

Marak chuckled. "Often it is difficult for goblins to have children together. We rely on different races, such as animals, dwarves, elves- yes dwarves and elves exist as well- and humans, to bear offspring. This is particularly true for the goblin king, who must always marry outside of the goblin race with a dwarf, an elf, or a human. Often we must take our brides against their will for the betterment of our kingdom. But, King's Wives are worshipped by all of the goblins, and especially the king. King's Wives often live long and happy lives."

Hope had heard enough. She pushed herself into a sitting position and glared around the campfire. She saw the three men and her younger sister. Marak looked at her concerned. She slowly stood and looked down at the goblin king imperiously, gathering her strength. "Excuse me, _sir_. I don't know who you are," _or who you think you are_, she added silently. "But I have heard enough of this nonsense. You are scaring my sister and we will be leaving now. If you are part of the search party, this trickery will never work to get us to come quietly. We will die fighting." She placed her hand on her chest; she was having difficulty breathing.

Isabel rushed to her sister and clutched her hand. "Hope, please sit down." She begged. "You were hurt very badly and you need to rest! Marak helped you, he wants to help us."

Hope glared at her sister. "I am protecting you. That does not involve strange men stealing us away to become their brides," she snapped through gritted teeth as she swayed unsteadily.

Marak stood slowly, not wanting to startle his bride. As he reached out a hand to steady Hope, she glared at him and swept her sister behind her, pulling a long knife out from somewhere.

"Stay… away… from me," she gasped.

"Please," Marak held his empty hands out in supplication. "I'm just trying to help you. Let me help you, Hope."

"Don't say my name," she hissed as she began backing away from the fire, ushering Isabel behind her.

Hope stumbled over a rock, and Marak was there to catch her, swiftly resting a hand on her forehead and sending her into a deep sleep. He swept her up and carried her back to the fire.

"We can't wait any longer," he said looking from the sky to his unsteady bride. "We need to get back underground before anything else happens tonight," he told Tudz and Loman. "Isabel, have you made a decision? Will you be joining us?"

Isabel nodded sullenly, still clutching her sister's hand. "I won't leave her."

"Alright, you'll ride with Tudz." Marak passed Hope to Loman as he settled into his saddle, and then pulled her up in front of him. Tudz kicked out the fire and grabbed the reins of Hope's horse. He jumped into his own saddle and pulled Isabel up in front of him.

Tudz smiled as he heard his charge mutter under her breath, "So much for an restful evening." He was really beginning to like Isabel.

**Hope that you enjoyed the second installment! Please write a review and let me know how I'm doing. (A big thank you to BalletGirl98 and c.a.s1404 for your reviews!)**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Hope awoke slowly. She stretched languorously, before she sat up and gauged her surroundings. She was sleeping in a bed (on a real mattress, she noted) in a small, sparsely furnished room. There was a small table next to her upon which sat a candle, a chest at the end of her bed, and a chair, which was occupied by a winged man. She studied him closely, her minding slowly dredging up memories from the previous evening of goblin tales.

The man was asleep with his feathered head resting on his chest. His large, white wings half spread on either side of his chair, his long legs stretched out in front of him. His feet, she noticed with some queasiness, had long webbed toes that ended in small claws. He wore a fine, grey shirt and trousers, and he had a book resting on his thigh.

She pursed her lips and looked around the room again. Although now seemed like an opportune time to make an escape, she knew that she was too exhausted to stand, let alone walk out of the room. She was also very hungry.

Hope cleared her throat. The man's head snapped up and looked at her. She recoiled when she saw his eyes. "His pupils were unnaturally dilated, the inky black broken only by a thin ring of amber. The flash of color brightened up his face, which was tinged a sickly grey. He smiled at her.

"Good evening. Have you been awake long?" he asked politely.

She frowned. "No, not long."

"Excellent! Now, I don't know how much you remember from last night," Marak began ruefully, glancing at her to see if she would interject. He took a deep breath when she didn't say anything and looked away, focusing on his feet. He had been practicing what he would tell her all day long. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Marak, and I am the king of the goblins. We live under the hill and the lake that you were camping nearby last night. I observed you fleeing from your... pursuers after you had been shot. I followed you, healed you, and brought you back to my home. I..." He cleared his throat nervously. "I intend for you to become my wife," he recited without looking at her. "You have all of the qualities of a king's wife; courage, strength, compassion…" He trailed off. He had thought by this point that Hope would have interrupted him. Instead, she was staring at him bemusedly.. She burst into a fit of laughter.

"You're laughing?" he accused her, perplexed. He had expected tears, pleading, anger, but not laughter.

Hope wiped her eyes. "I'm s-sorry," she stuttered. "Did someone put you up to this? I admit, it is a very creative costume, _your__highness_," she sneered, gesturing towards his wings. "But you don't honestly expect me to believe that you are a king of- of a fairy tale? And even if what you say is true, you actually want _me_to become your wife?" She began laughing again.

Marak looked at her seriously. "Hope, please listen. I am a goblin, and goblins never lie. I would never deceive you." He flexed his wings anxiously.

Hope scratched her head, staring at his wings. They did look quite real; could he actually _fly_,she wondered? "Fine, _if_ goblins exist, and _if_ you are truly their king, I am the most unsuitable bride imaginable. I am a thief! A gypsy thief," she added, as if that made her even more undesirable. "I can open any lock, shoot any target, and steal any object. I have no interests in courts or politics or fashions. I am a wanderer; I live for the road and adventure. You don't want me to be your wife, I'm far too troublesome," she finished triumphantly.

There was pity in his eyes, behind the polite mask. "Hope," he said gently. "I know that this is a lot to take in right now. But you will make a wonderful King's Wife. Your race and your choice of occupation don't matter to me, or to the goblins."

That was when Hope started yelling. She wasn't really sure what she said, and she didn't care, punctuating her best insults with her pillows and the candleholder.

Marak calmly tried to placate her as best he could, catching and removing the projectile objects from her range. Her rage eventually disappeared and she turned her back on Marak to sob dejectedly into her pillow.

* * *

><p>Hope had been underground for a week. Marak wanted to give her enough time so that she was healed enough to physically handle the King's Wife Ceremony. In the afternoons, he allowed her to wander through the castle on her own. Not that she had been able to hobble very far. The arrow, she had been told, had torn a hole in one of her lungs, and she became out of breath very quickly. Which was very inconvenient when one was still trying to find a way to escape. After all, she wasn't married to the monster yet, she told herself cheerlessly.<p>

One hand tracing the wall, Hope shivered as she continued wandering around the castle. Her routine had been the same since she woke up after the first argument. Mostly, she slept. Marak was always there when she woke up, offering food and attempting to chat politely. She would eat the food and ignore him. Even though it was generally impossible for Hope to keep her mouth shut, she had not spoken to Marak since their argument. She would wait patiently until he left, and then she explored the castle. She would wander around until she was lost or tired, and then Marak would find her and lead her back to her room. There, she would generally find Isabel waiting to tell her sister all about the exciting goblins she met, and all of the new things she was learning.

Isabel was having a grand time living in the goblin kingdom, the traitor. The younger girl had no sympathy for her miserable older sister, and seemed to worship Marak. It made Hope sick to even think about it. These goblins may have brainwashed her sister, but they wouldn't be able to fool her so easily.

She grimaced as she admitted to herself that Isabel had not had the best experiences with humans during her short life. She had been persecuted and hunted even as a child, spending more nights than not going to bed hungry and cold.

Marak appeared around the corner in front of her, dressed all in black. He smiled encouragingly. "You made it far today!" She glared at him. When she didn't respond, not that he expected her to after her week of the silent treatment, he continued.

"Hope," he said gently. "It's time."

Her face crumpled, but she kept herself composed. She knew that she would be forced to marry Marak very soon, and had resigned herself to a life of misery with her ugly, but polite husband.

Marak felt pride and exasperation for his bride. She was so brave, and so stubborn! If only she would talk to him. "You'll be happy with me if you give me a chance, I promise." He tried to take her hand, but she jerked it from his grip, crossing her arms tightly across her chest. He continued, unruffled by her response, "Now, I've explained the ceremony to you before, do you have any questions?"

He led her into an empty stone room, furnished with a table and chair carved from the rock itself. He sat her down on the chair, and buckled gold circlets around her wrists and ankles. A part of her admired the seamless, solid gold circlets, probably worth a tidy fortune. Another part of her thought that, as a queen, she wouldn't need to steal nice things. Marak had assured her that the goblins would give her anything she wanted.

Marak left her in the hands of some old goblin women, after giving her a potion that took away her voice. Over the last week, Hope had come to terms with her aversion to goblins. Although some of the stranger forms still made her queasy to look at, she could now tolerate being surrounded by these goblin women without trembling in fear or revulsion. As she began to relax, she thought that it was quite nice to be pampered – she had never had so many people fussing over her before!

The ceremony went quickly. She was dressed up, painted, poked, prodded and cut. Hope thought that the most exciting part had been when Marak nearly decapitated her with a sword that turned into the King's Wife Charm.

After the ceremony, she was taken back to the original stone room, where Marak (her new husband, she thought disdainfully) gave her a drink that returned her voice and took off the gold circlets. He then had a goblin escort her up to the royal suite.

Hope waited until her goblin escort left her alone in the rooms before she stared, open-mouthed at her surroundings. She had never seen rooms as fine as these, with thick, white carpet, every piece of furniture and wall its own unique piece of art. There were paintings, stained glass and mosaics on every surface. Every pillow was an embroidery masterpiece. One entire side of the bedroom held clear, glass doors that led onto a balcony overlooking a large valley. She wandered around the room, looking at different objects that caught her attention. When she felt that she had examined every object in the room as thoroughly as possible, she turned her eyes towards the monstrosity that took up the middle of the room; the bed. It was an enormous canopied bed covered with sumptuous, midnight blue blankets and pillows.

She made her way nervously to the bed and sat down, holding her arms around herself. Hope guessed that, now that they were properly married by goblin standards, Marak would spend their wedding night ravishing her, in this very bed. She smiled a little. In all of her interactions with the goblin king, he had been painstakingly polite. He didn't seem like the ravishing type. In all likelihood, he'd spend the night politely making love to her.

She was still frowning at that thought when Marak walked into the room. She stared at him sullenly, biting her nails.

"I see you survived the ceremony," he tried to joke as he stood awkwardly in the doorway. She didn't respond. "It would make things much simpler if you spoke to me. Please, tell me what is going on in your head. I know that you haven't suddenly gone mute; you still talk to Isabel every day. I've even heard several reports of you briefly talking to other goblins. So please, talk to me."

Hope nodded her head slowly, still not meeting his eyes. "What happens now?"

The goblin king beamed at her. "See, that wasn't so bad!" His shoulders relaxed as he realized that his wife was again speaking to him, and walked closer to the bed, slumping into an overstuffed, green velvet armchair. "Well, in answer to your question, it mostly depends on what you want to do. I would love the opportunity to give you a proper tour of the castle. If you are hungry we can get some food from the kitchens. Or maybe you are just ready to go to bed. I realize that it's been a long day for you."

She was surprised by the freedom of choice. "I would like a tour. Even after a week wandering around, I don't know up from down in this castle. Is it possible for me to change into something comfortable?" she gestured towards the green dappled sheath that she wore.

"That is an excellent place to start our tour: your new wardrobe." He stood up and offered her his hand. Hope stared at the extended appendage. She stood up and resolutely placed her hands behind her back.

"I have a wardrobe?"

Marak smiled. "The King's Wife is the most important person in the kingdom. She sets all of the fashions, even if she does so unintentionally. Every seamstress, jeweler and shoemaker sends his or her best pieces to make up her wardrobe." He led her towards a set of double doors at the far end of the bedroom. "The King's Wife's wardrobe is always full of items of different sizes and styles, but you are lucky; the artisans had an entire week with your approximate measurements to assemble this outrageous ensemble for you." He opened the doors.

Hope looked around, open-mouthed. If she'd thought the bedroom ostentatious, the closet was simply overwhelming. There were racks, overflowing with dresses and shoes of every color and style, some even embroidered with flawless pearls and diamonds, all of incomparable value. She ran a hand wonderingly over the beautiful fabrics.

She walked to the middle of the closet where there was a dressing table, a mirror and a stool. She sank down onto the stool, slightly giddy, as she stared at the beautiful bracelets, necklaces and earrings artfully displayed on the tabletop.

Marak leaned against the door frame, grinning at her stunned expression. "Is there anything in particular that you would like to wear tonight?"

"Is there anything _simple_ in this closet? Am I expected to wear a ball gown at all times?" She threw this question over her shoulder, unwilling to take her eyes off the jewelry in front of her.

He chuckled. "There are some 'simpler' clothes in the drawers – tunics, shirts, trousers, undergarments. Simpler dresses are also in the back."

Several minutes later, Hope emerged from behind a dressing screen, dressed in dark trousers and a forest green blouse. The fabric was finer then the nicest dress she had ever owned, but it was simplest thing she could find in this enormous closet. She pulled on a pair of black, soft leather boots. They were about calf-length, and they fit her perfectly, like everything else in this enormous wardrobe.

Marak gave her a quick tour of the rest of the King's suite. He showed her the balcony, the bathroom, the study, and the sitting area, all the while chattering to her about the history of the palace, and pointing out especially exquisite art pieces. To his surprise, she engaged in the conversation by tentatively answering and asking questions, looking around with interest and wonder.

After an hour of their tour, Marak could tell that his wife was beginning to tire. He began to guide them back to their room. "We missed dinner in the Great Hall, so I've arranged for some food to be brought up to our rooms."

She looked up at him, surprised. She had been so immersed in their conversation about goblin history, she hadn't even realized how hungry she was, until he said the word "food." Marak had proved to be an excellent storyteller, once she'd gotten over his stiff politeness.

As they approached their rooms, Hope began to feel her previous nervousness return. Her stomach knotted at thought of the enormous bed in the middle of the room, of Marak, and of her wedding night. Her anxiety built as they passed through the door. She could see the bed now, looming in front of her like a dark specter, taunting her.

Marak could feel the tension of his wife. He cleared his throat nervously. "Er- is everything alright? Did I say something to upset you?"

She wrung her hands and began pacing, channeling her anxiety into anger – a much more familiar emotion. "No, nothing is 'alright'! I've been kidnapped, forced into a marriage against my will, pushed, pricked, and- _and,_ _painted_ all day." She started crying. She told herself they were tears of anger. "I am not 'alright'." She wiped at her tears angrily.

He reached out to console her. "No!" she snapped angrily, snatching her arm away from him. "This is all _your_fault. You did everything to upset me. So don't try to comfort me. I don't even like you," she whispered. "Because of you, I have to spend my wedding night with a strange man in a strange place with that monstrosity." She gestured angrily towards the bed.

Marak suddenly understood. He reached out and gently placed a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up. She flinched slightly, but held his eyes. "Hope, listen- no don't interrupt me. Nothing is going to happen tonight. There is nothing expected of you. It often takes years for a king and his wife to conceive, and that is because goblins allow time for the couple to learn to love each other. Yes, _love_. There have been many Kings' Wives who truly loved their husbands. I won't even sleep in your bed. I sleep on that cot over there until you say differently. It is described as _love_making for a reason," he told her quietly.

He paused, and reached down to hold her hands. "It may seem cruel that you were taken from the human world, but goblins are not cruel. _I_ am not cruel, and I would never hurt you. I hope that one day you will understand this."

Hope tremulously nodded as a few more silently tears escaped from her eyes. Marak looked at her closely before he very carefully and tenderly pulled his wife into a gentle embrace. He stroked her hair as she sobbed into her shoulder, murmuring soothing words of comfort. He knew that the first night was always difficult on the King's Wives.

When she had finished crying, Marak pulled off her boots and gently tucked her into bed, laying a kiss and a weak sleeping spell on her forehead.

"Good night, Hope. Tomorrow will be easier, I promise."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

"Good morning!" A bright, cheerful voice interrupted her sleep from beside the bed. Hope immediately tensed, her hands clasping the bed sheets as she vainly reached for her bow and arrow. She sat up and faced her husband, trying to hold her pillow like a dagger.

She stared at the pillow in her hand as she blinked the sleep from her eyes. Embarrassed, she put it down.

"Those are some reflexes," he remarked, trying to not to laugh.

Hope shrugged. "Old habits die hard. A week of sleeping in a comfortable bed isn't going reverse a lifetime of living on the road," she mumbled bitterly as she leaned against the backboard of the bed.

"I bring a peace offering," he told her, handing her a warm mug. "Drink."

She tentatively smelled the warm liquid, looking at him suspiciously. "What is it?" She couldn't help but get lost in the black orbs of his eyes. She looked away and her eyes rested on the white wings sprouting from his back.

"This is the elixir of the gods. It is called kheela and it's served with warm milk and spices. Try it," he coaxed.

She continued to stare at the drink suspiciously to avoid looking at her husband's deformities. "You're a morning person, aren't you?" she accused.

Marak chuckled. "You may find yourself a morning person after you try this as well."

She closed her eyes and took a small sip. The warm liquid left a tingling sensation on the tip of her tongue and filled her senses with a rich, strong earthy flavor that was set off by the sweet milk and seemed to warm the inside of her bones. She took a larger swallow this time.

"Kheela." She rolled the name on her tongue. "This is wonderful," she admitted grudgingly. She sat up taller in the bed as she continued to drink the kheela.

"I couldn't agree more." He smiled at her.

Her long, dark red hair cascaded around her shoulders in tangles. Her eyes were still slightly red-rimmed from her crying the previous evening, but she was finally beginning to look rested after her arrow wound.

"Are you just going to stare at me all day?" She crossed her arms over her chest and glared back.

He smiled at her pleasantly. "No, today I really must catch up on the work that has been piling up for the last week. I was thinking that maybe you could go for a ride with your sister."

Hope gave a guilty start. She hadn't thought about her sister since she had seen her a few days ago. "Is the traitor still enjoying herself?"

He smiled. "She's become quite the celebrity. She has quiet a following. Several young goblins have taken her on as a project. They've dressed her in the current fashions and even begun teaching her goblin. I'm sure one of her new friends would give you a tour of the palace grounds."

Hope considered. As much as she loved her, the last thing she wanted was to do was spend the day around her cheerful sister and her new goblin friends. But getting outside of these palace walls would be a nice change. Well, not the "real" outside since she would still be underground. She nodded. "A ride sounds nice."

Less than an hour later, Hope was riding down the long, wide road that led from the castle to the rest of the kingdom. The road was a beautiful, dark stone that sparkled in the weak light, lined by stone trees, inlaid with geometric patterns. The road led down from the castle, passing through enormous stone mansions with manicured stone gardens. She was accompanied by her younger sister and her companion, Tudz, whom Hope had met several times since the incident in the clearing. He was decent, for a goblin, although he was very stiff and formal with her.

"Hope!" Her younger sister spurred her mount to catch up to her. "Are you going to sulk all day long?"

"Dearest Isabel, I appreciate your concern, but you can't possibly understand the woes of married life," Hope said patronizingly. "But don't worry, dear, I fear before long they will marry you off to an old goblin as well."

Isabel laughed. "I don't see what you are complaining about; food, a warm bed… I'm even making friends."

"Exactly. You're getting complacent," Hope said disgustedly. "Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Now, Hope, don't be a hypocrite. If being kidnapped and married to a fairytale creature in a kingdom of wonders isn't enough adventures, what is?"

"I've been sentenced to a live of boredom," Hope sighed melodramatically. "I don't feel anything anymore. I'm not even allowed to do anything exciting with this stupid snake tattooed on my skin." She gestured towards the golden snake that encircled her neck.

Isabel rolled her eyes. "What does that snake do, anyways?"

"If I may interject..." Tudz had ridden up to join the bickering sisters. "That is not an ordinary snake," he said reverently. "That is the King's Wife Charm. It is the grandest piece of magic that belongs to the kingdom. It will protect the King's Wife, and consequently the heir, from all dangers."

"It's rather pretty," Isabel said.

Hope pouted. "Don't you understand? I have this stupid charm protecting me from anything that might be exciting. Now, if my guard will allow it," she glared at Tudz, "I'm going to go for a _real_ride." She kicked Pegasus into a run and flew down the black road.

"Just let her go," Isabel told Tudz. "She just needs something to distract her. Now, what were you saying about the King's Wife Charm? When is it from? How was it made?"

* * *

><p>It was such a relief not to have to think, to simply focus on the basic task of riding. She felt the wind tug at her clothing, her red hair flying like a banner in her wake, and a wide smile on her face. On Pegasus, she had never met a rider who could outrun them. She and the horse were one.<p>

Goblins who had long awaited Marak Whitewings marriage marveled at the beauty that rode down the main road, lining the roads and cheering. Marak was not a young king, and his people were much soothed at the sight of the King's Wife. The goblins saw, not a young, scared woman riding, but a phoenix, a red fire-bird flying through the kingdom.

* * *

><p>Hope arrived back at the castle several hours later, feeling much more relaxed. She pointedly ignored the stable boy who had a very long and horse-like face and found grooming supplies and food for Pegasus.<p>

After she had spent more than enough time grooming Pegasus, who clearly enjoyed the attention, she reluctantly left the stables, wondering what to do next. Luckily, the kitchens and dining hall were located near the stables, and the delicious smells of lunch enticed Hope.

She followed her nose to a large, bustling kitchen. She peeked into the kitchen from one of the many doors and her eyes widened. She had never seen so many goblins in one place before. There were goblins as small as rodents working steadily away on countertops, a goblin with multiple arms kneading what looked like bread dough, several goblins with very large noses bending over cooking pots. In the center of the controlled chaos a tall, thin goblin commanded the kitchen. She had molted, purple skin that contrasted against the bright blue braid that trailed down her back. Impossibly long eyelashes framed bright orange eyes. She was dressed in a bright apron. Hope thought she looked like a rainbow personified.

From the room across the hall, Hope heard many voices echoing through the room and the clatter of knives and plates. This was the dining hall that Marak had told her about, where all the goblins that lived and served in the castle came together at meals. Hope gulped – it sounded like there was an entire army of goblins were sitting down to lunch.

Taking a deep breath, she decided that her stomach took precedence over her fears. Cautiously, she approached the large doors that framed the hall. She took a step into the room.

As the goblins took note of her, they fell silent, until every goblin eye in the room was curiously examining Hope. She felt suddenly self-conscious and looked down at her disheveled attire, trying to smooth back her unruly, tangled hair, wondering belatedly whether she should have changed out of her riding pants and tunic.

Everywhere she looked in the hall her eyes were met with a riot of color, a splash of sparkle, a glitter of jewels. Clearly the goblins took their mealtime apparel very seriously.

Someone in the crowd began to slowly clap, and all of the goblins joined in the ovation. The sound was deafening in the rock cavern, punctuated by trills and hoots from the excited goblins. Hope blushed and turned on her heel to walk out of the hall (planning on never returning again) when she ran into something – or someone – very solid. Luckily this very solid someone instinctively reached out to steady her.

She looked up and recognized her husband.

"Marak!" she squeaked.

Marak lifted an eyebrow at his wife, but inwardly he was rejoicing that Hope had used his name for the first time. "Hope, what are you doing here? I thought you were out riding with Isabel and Tudz."

By now, the goblins had begun to quiet, returning to their meals and conversations. The goblins closest to the entrance grinned at each other and raptly watched the couple in the entrance hall, noting with pleasure that the king still had his arms around his wife from when he had reached out to steady her.

"Er, I- uh, just got back from the ride…"

Marak smiled. "Yes, you still have hay in your hair," he teased as he plucked a piece from her wild mane.

She bristled and took a step away from him. "There's no need to ridicule me. You knew when you married me that I wasn't some- some court flower. You got a thief, hay and all." She gestured wildly.

Marak shook his head, smiling gently at his easily offended wife. "I apologize. The hay is very becoming on you." He steered her towards a large table at the back of the hall. "I am fairly certain that by tomorrow, the entire court will be mimicking your new trend; dressing ruggedly and dragging the entire countryside through my castle."

Hope continued to glare at him, not sure whether she was still being made fun of, but she allowed herself to be towed towards two empty seats at the front table. She was still hungry after all.

Grumpily, she sat in the chair, still trying to smooth her disheveled hair. She promptly turned her back to Marak, facing the goblin next to her. This particular goblin was very slender, had green, snakelike skin, and a flat triangular face surrounded by chin length brown hair. She was grinning with merriment, her sharp white teeth shining in the dim light of the hall and her eyes alight with laughter.

The goblin chuckled. "Men. Don't let him get to you."

Hope stared, entranced by the pattern on the goblin's skin. "I take it that you are a- uh- female goblin?"

"Yep. And I've been trying to knock some sense into this king for years. The name is Sarrasi. Captain of the King's Guard, at your service." She bowed from her chair and winked at Hope.

"You are the captain of the King's Guard?" Hope asked skeptically, looking the petite goblin over.

Sarrasi grinned evilly, showing off her pointed teeth.

"Snakelike reflexes are described thusly for a reason," Marak teased, leaning around Hope to look at Sarrasi. He passed Hope a plate full of food. "She is the best fighter in the realm," he said proudly.

"Why, Marak," Sarrasi said coyly, batting her eyelashes at the king. "You know just how to flatter a girl. Now, be a dear, and go find your own conversation. We were just about to begin a griping session about the male gender."

Hope laughed.

"Alright, alright." Marak held his hands up in mock defeat. "I concede. I am no match for either you." He turned and began conversing with the goblin on his other side.

Hope smiled gratefully at Sarrasi. "Thank you."

Sarrasi waved her thanks away. "No thanks needed. I recognized a kindred spirit in distress. I grew up in one of the small villages in the kingdom, and all of this court nonsense was well over my head at the beginning. My first day in court…"

Sarrasi continued to keep Hope occupied during lunch, regaling her with ridiculous stories that kept her in fits of laughter in between bites of delicious food.

When the meal was winding down and goblins began trickling out of the hall to go to their respective duties, Sarrasi stood up and stretched. "Oy, Marak," she called. "The boys and I are headed towards the practice courts. Are you coming?"

"Alas, I must decline your offer. I still have mountains of paperwork to sift through," Marak replied glumly.

"May I join you?" Hope asked.

Marak and Sarrasi looked at each other. Marak nodded. "I don't see why she can't watch."

Hope frowned. She didn't want to just _watch_ the practice session. She wanted to participate. Although she had never had formal weapons training, she had spent years perfecting her archery skills, and had practiced sporadic lessons in fighting with a staff and hand-to-hand combat.

"Excellent," Sarrasi said. "Follow me, Hope." The goblin lead Hope down a series of twisting tunnels until they reached a large room that was filled with weapons, targets, mats, and padded equipment. Assembled around the room were one hundred or so goblins divided into different groups (which Hope assumed were different units), and spread around the room at different practice stations.

"With goblins, it's very important to identify the weapons their body can work best with," Sarrasi explained to Hope as they entered the loud practice courts. "Because we work with a wider range of bodies and abilities than humans do, we have much more specific training. We've got goblins who shoot with bows and arrows, goblins who throw daggers, goblins who use staffs, goblins who learn sword work, goblins who practice hand-to-hand combat, goblins who practice mounted… the list goes on. Many goblins _are_ weapons, and just need to hone their skills using their bodies."

Hope was fascinated by the array of goblins and weaponry. She felt more comfortable here among the weapons and practicing guards than anywhere else in the castle. "How do you become a member of the guard?"

"We hold trials every year if anyone is interested in becoming part of the guard. We are the most elite force in the kingdom," Sarrasi puffed herself up proudly. "The trials are huge festival every year. Anyone may compete, and the winner of the trial is showered with honors and prizes. We only recruit from the top competitors."

"What exactly does your guard do?" Hope asked curiously as they wandered around the perimeter of the practice courts.

"We are tasked with protecting the kingdom, and more importantly the realm. We keep bandits in check, patrol the area above ground, guard the castle, and perform any other duties that need to be filled."

Hope spent most of the afternoon shadowing Sarrasi as the goblin organized different practice areas and shouted corrections to different members of the guard. The guards all chattered and joked in goblin, clearly a cohesive group.

"Sarrasi, can I practice with your guard?" Hope asked hopefully. She envied these soldiers who had a place within the castle and a purpose.

Sarrasi avoided Hope's searching eyes. "I don't think that would be possible," she said gently.

Hope tried to hide her disappointment. "Oh. Can I ask why?"

Sarrasi sighed and rubbed her neck. "Has Marak explained much about the King's Wife Charm?"

Hope looked down at the snake's gold coils barely visible at her neck. "He said that the snake is a powerful protective charm that keeps the King's Wife safe."

"Yes, and when it feels that someone is threatening you, the snake becomes animated and bites the offender, rending that person immobile until the king can come and pass judgment on that individual. Unfortunately for you that means that if you were to practice any weaponry with any of my men, I fear the charm would strike us down." Sarrasi laid a hand on Hope's arm. "I'm sorry."

Hope shook her off, smiling a little too brightly. "I understand. I probably wouldn't have been any good." Hope stayed in the practice courts for a few minutes before quietly excusing herself to go back to the royal chambers.

Marak found her in their rooms a little while later. She was leaning against the railing that circled the balcony overlooking the valley. He surveyed the room, and the several broken pieces of glassware. He slowly approached his wife.

"Did watching the training practice not go well?" he asked tentatively as he came to lean against the banister beside her.

Hope sighed and turned to look at him. "It was wonderful, thank you for asking," she said sweetly, glaring up at him.

"So… the broken pottery in our rooms was just for sport?" he asked pleasantly.

"I tend to throw things when I am upset," she said bitterly.

"I've noticed," he smiled gently. "What were you upset about this time?"

She pursed her lips and looked back out over the valley. "I feel like I've lost everything that I was. I've lost my family, everyone besides Isabel, and my friends. I didn't like my brothers very much, but they were my people, and now I have no one. I'm no longer a thief, I can't wander freely as I used to, and now I can't even practice weaponry with your men," she whispered.

Marak nodded thoughtfully. "Sarrasi explained in more depth the King's Wife Charm? Hmm… well I understand why you can't practice with a sparing partner, but I see no reason why you can't continue your work as an archer. We have a guard who is an expert at knife throwing, you may benefit from his tutorage." He chuckled. "Although I hate to see what your improved throwing aim would do to our rooms…"

Hope stared at him. "You mean, I can practice something?" she asked hopefully.

He smiled. "I will speak with Sarrasi tomorrow and see that she begins training you with her sentries, who are our archers and knife throwers."

Hope closed her eyes, relief washing over her features. "Wonderful."

Marak rubbed his hands together. "With that problem solved, would you be interested in joining me for dinner in the dining hall? Or we could have dinner here if you prefer."

"Dinner in the hall is fine." She looked down at herself and grinned. "I suppose I should go change into something a bit more respectable after this afternoon." As she walked past him towards their room she laid a hand on his arm, looked up into his dark eyes, and absentmindedly stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek.

The couple froze. Hope looked horrified. Marak's polite mask slipped and she saw hope and excitement, and even a little uncertainty, shining from his dark eyes. Eyes that she was having a very difficult time looking away from.

"I, er-," she stuttered. A gentle pink color spread across her cheeks as she realized what she had done, and the possible consequences of her actions.

Marak's cheek gently tingled where Hope's lips had been. "Hope," he murmured fervently, laying one of his large hands over her small one. She looked up at him with pleading and apologetic eyes. Hope felt alternating waves of hot and cold flood her body as she panicked. Her mind raced as she wondered whether Marak would kiss her now, and what those grey lips would taste like, and how she would react. She was torn between deciding to slap him, or kiss him in return when Marak unexpectedly pulled away.

He sighed, and dropped his polite mask back into place. "Hope," he repeated pleasantly. "Do you need any help choosing a gown for dinner?"

"No," she replied quietly. "Thank you. I will meet you in the dining hall shortly." She turned and fled towards their room, leaving Marak very alone on the balcony.

He closed his eyes to hide his disappointment. He had thought for a brief moment that maybe Hope was beginning to grow found of him, as he had already begun to grow very found of her, but no. Instead, he tried to remember that Hope had called him by his name for the first time today, and was beginning to hold entire conversations with him. He remembered all of this as he tried, vainly, to avoid thinking about a certain pair of luscious red lips that beckoned, or a pair of long lashed hazel eyes that entranced…


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The next few days passed quickly for Hope; she adjusted to her schedule of long rides in the mornings, often accompanied by Isabel and Tudz, and spending her afternoons training with Sarrasi and the men of the guard. She even began to enjoy meals in the Great Hall, surrounded by the colorful goblins (many of whom did indeed begin to wear bits of nature on their garb). She avoided (or more often ignored) Marak whenever possible after The Incident. When she found herself alone with Marak she would make poor excuses about needing to feed Pegasus (who was becoming very fat).

Marak, although saddened by Hope's avoidance of him, had many matters of the state to occupy him. He had always been very involved in the running of his country- unlike some of his predecessors he not only supplied raw power the kingdom running, he actively participated in all parts of the government; holding court every day, attending meetings with his advisors, helping to organize the King's Guard, and dealing with any emergencies that struck his Kingdom.

Hope threw down her bow. "This is dreadful! I'm already better than all of your men. No offense meant," she added quickly. "I just can't keep practicing drawing and shooting my arrow at a target, I will simply go mad!" she yelled as she stalked over towards Sarrasi several days later.

"I can't even go out and hunt something, because all of the hunters must hunt outside of the kingdom." She turned pleading eyes towards Sarrasi. "Please let me practice sword fighting. I've been practicing the drills for three days. I'm ready to fight someone."

Sarrasi chuckled and shook her head. Hope's tantrums were becoming famous around the kingdom, and this one did not faze the King's Captain. "You know, there may be someone who can teach you sword play in the kingdom. He doesn't come very often, but if I make a special case…"

Hope smiled triumphantly. "I knew I would eventually wear you down."

Sarrasi smiled. "You may not thank me when you find out who your instructor will be."

"How could I dislike someone who is teaching me something _useful_?" She asked.

She was proven wrong the next afternoon. As she was stretching and warming up with the sentries she saw Sarrasi and Marak walk into the practice courts, deep in conversation. Hope frowned at the prospect of speaking to her husband, but she was dying to know who was going to teach her swordplay. She walked tentatively over to the pair.

"Good afternoon, Sarrasi." She smiled at the petite goblin before glaring at Marak. "Marak," she acknowledged him icily, barely inclining her head in acknowledgement.

Marak barely concealed a smile and tried to keep his face as serious as Hope's.

"Hello, Hope," Sarrasi said brightly, grinning evilly. "This is to be your new instructor."

Hope looked around. "Who?"

"Marak of course! He is one of the best swordsmen in the realm, and he is the only one who does not fear the King's Wife Charm. The snake will never bite the King." Sarrasi smiled winningly at Hope. "Its quite an honor to have the King as your trainer. He has a very busy schedule. Good luck!"

Hope stared, aghast, at the retreating captains back. Slowly she turned towards Marak. "You did this," she hissed angrily. "You know I've been avoiding you, so you show up here- to my refuge!"

"I simply agreed to help teach you. I have no interest in ambushing you," he said mildly. "You know, I used to be the captain of the King's guard, so I believe that it was originally my place of 'refuge'," he drawled.

She glared. "There isn't anyone else in the kingdom who can teach me?"

He smiled. "I'm afraid not."

She threw her arms in the air and stalked over towards the practice swords. "Let's just start."

"Actually, we won't be starting with actual swords yet. First we will practice some drills without the weapon. No, don't give me that look, we'll use swords later today."

Hope was sure, without a doubt, that this was the most arduous afternoon of her life so far. Marak pushed her to her physical limits, which she began to realize was not very far. And she had to put up with her know-it-all, albeit polite husband.

By the time the afternoon was coming to a close, and Marak had finally let her hold a wooden sword, she was ill-tempered and wanted nothing more than to beat Marak with that sturdy piece of wood.

Unfortunately, Hope could barely block his blows, let alone make offensive attacks of her own. The day ended after Hope threw her sword at Marak (who noted that knife throwing had indeed improved her aim) and stomped off cradling an injured wrist.

Marak sighed as he watched his wife's exit. Sarrasi sidled closer to him. "That went well."

Marak raised an eyebrow. "She tends to throw things when she gets mad."

"At least she only threw her sword at you after the lesson was almost over," Sarrasi said consolingly. "She did spent an entire afternoon with you. One might call that progress."

* * *

><p>Isabel tried in vain to concentrate on the page before her. She greatly appreciated Tudz's help learning the goblin tongue, she really did, but just now she was exhausted at staring at squiggly lines that supposedly made up the written language.<p>

"Its no use, Tudz. I'm hopeless. I'm never going to be able to read goblin," she groaned as she pushed her strawberry blonde curls out of her eyes and glared at her language instructor. "Goblins will point and stare, and say, 'Look at that poor girl. Always lost because she never even learned to read street signs.'"

Tudz chuckled. "My dear Isabel, you have already learned more goblin in a few weeks than I had learned in my first year of English lessons. Just because you are learning the goblin alphabet at a _normal _pace does not mean that you are hopeless. You just need to keep practicing."

"Can't we just take a small break?"

He raised his eyebrow. She rolled her eyes at him and picked up her quill, muttering something under her breath about new a career as a slave driver.

As Isabel continued to write out the alphabet Marak knocked on the open doorway. "May I join the language class?"

"Only if you let me have a break. Slave master Tudz wants to me practice until my hand falls off every day," she jokingly complained, putting down her quill.

"You're lucky that goblin has a phonetic alphabet. But then again, you'll have to memorize all of our symbols as well," Marak smiled sympathetically at the young girl.

Marak studied at the pair. When he had asked Tudz to care for Hope's younger sister in the clearing that first night, Marak had been pleasantly surprised at how well the unlikely pair had gotten along. While Marak had tended to her sister, Isabel had followed Tudz around the castle.

Tudz, instead of being irked about his shadow, had taken her under her wing and introduced her all over the castle, encouraging her questions and even offering to teach her goblin.

"I'm sorry that I haven't had much time to see you. How have the last few days been? I can see that you have moved on to the written language," he picked up the sheet in front of her. "This is very good!"

Isabel smiled. "Thank you, your Highness."

"Please, call me Marak."

She nodded. "How is Hope this afternoon?"

"She's back to her old regimen of avoiding me whenever possible," he sighed and rubbed his tired eyes. "It seems like I am going to have a very quiet marriage."

Isabel laughed. "I guarantee you, Marak, that you will not have a quiet marriage. Not with my sister as a wife."

"Hmm, I can hardly wait," Marak teased as he stood up, stretching out his wings. "I just wanted to check on your progress. If you keep working on those letters, you may be ready to start attending classes with the first year pages in a few weeks. You've picked up the spoken language so well."

Her eyes widened. "Really? And then I could be a page, like Tudz?"

"Some day, young one. Tudz, make sure your charge gets some sleep tonight."

"Yes, sire."

Marak turned to walk out the door.

"She loves sticky buns."

"I'm sorry?" Marak turned around to face Isabel.

"Hope loves sticky buns in the morning," Isabel repeated patiently. "If you are looking for a way to 'woo' my sister, you would be surprised at how far bringing her pastries in the morning will get you."

"Thank you for the advice. Good night."

Marak slowly walked back to his chambers, hoping that he had given enough time to Hope that she was already asleep in bed. He knew that he made her uncomfortable; he just hoped that she would overcome her distress of him someday. He didn't want to push her too far, so he simply didn't push at all and allowed her the privacy that she wanted.

He was surprised to find that Hope was nowhere to be found in their rooms. He had assumed after the fencing fiasco that Hope would have stayed around the castle, but come to think of it, he hadn't seen her at dinner either.

Marak groaned as he looked ahead to a night searching for his lost wife; it would inevitably be a lengthy one. He went down to the stables and saddled his horse, realizing that if Hope wasn't in bed by now, she was probably wandering around lost outside of the castle.

He found her a little while afterwards in a small overhang along the edge of the valley wall. She was futilely trying to start a fire with a small pile of rubbish she had gathered and two stones.

Marak rode up to the entrance of the small overhang and dismounted.

"Hello, Hope," he said very quietly and very calmly, as if trying to soothe a frightened horse.

Hope sighed and threw down the rocks she was using to try and spark a fire. She sat down in a huff and glared at Marak.

"Come to gloat?" she asked scathingly.

"Gloat about what?" he asked tiredly as he sat down across from Hope. He snapped his fingers and the small pile of kindling burst into flames, lighting the small cave they sat in. Hope gave a start at the sudden appearance of flames, but welcomed their warmth; she hadn't realized that she'd been shivering before. "Look how much wood you've gathered! This is a difficult feat in the kingdom of stone." He beamed at her.

"I spent all afternoon gathering it, mostly along the main road," she said wearily, not sure whether she was being patronized or not. It had taken a very long time to collect that much wood.

"Are you planning on spending the night out here, or would you like to return to the castle with me?" Marak asked, staring at her across the fire.

"I'm never going back," Hope announced regally, raising her chin in defiance.

Marak sighed. "I thought that you were beginning to enjoy yourself," he said quietly, looking down at his hands. "It seemed like you were getting along with Sarrasi and the men of the King's Guard."

"They're alright as goblins go," she acknowledged, pulling her legs up to her chest. "It's you I can't seem to get rid of."

Marak chuckled. "So the only part of your new life that you disagree with is myself?" he asked.

"Among other things, you are the chief complaint," Hope said loftily, as her teeth chattered. She hadn't realized how cold it got outside of the castle.

Marak took off his cloak and passed it to her. "Can an evil goblin king at least give his cloak to a cold maiden?"

Hope glared at it for a moment before greedily snatching his cloak and wrapping herself in its warmth. She unconsciously closed her eyes and buried her nose in his smell- the smell of the woods and loam. "I don't think you're 'evil'," she said slowly. "I just don't like you. You're rude. And too polite," she sniffed.

He smiled. "Rude and overly polite? That is quite the accomplishment."

Her lips twitched in what might have been a smile. "It's just that you have this polite mask that you use with everyone. It's very intimidating. And you did kidnapped me," she added reproachfully.

Marak nodded seriously. "It's not a 'mask.' I was raised to treat everyone with honor and courtesy." Their eyes met and held across the fire. Hope felt color rise in her cheeks but couldn't break the eye contact.

"That includes your kidnapped brides?"

"I would like to point out that I did rescue you when you were injured. I hope that a daring rescue earns me some credit."

"Why didn't you just leave me to die?" she asked curiously. "Why take such interest in a thief?"

"I've waited a long time to find a wife. I wanted to find someone who I would be compatible with, who would be able to accept the goblins, who would see the adventure in her new life… a wife I could fall in love with," he added quietly.

"Unfortunately for you, you seem to have chosen wrongly," she said tartly. "Clearly there will be no falling in love."

Marak wanted to pull her up from her seat besides the fire and tell that it was too late for that- that he was quickly falling in love with her spirit and her tenacity and her love of life. He wanted to wrap his arms around his wife and finally kiss those luscious red lips of hers.

Instead Marak smiled, stood up and brushed off his pants. "I will not stop you from sleeping out of doors if you truly wish it, but I would encourage you to return with me. I'll even run you a bath and ring up for some food." Hope's stomach growled in response. He extended his hand towards her. "Please come home with me."

Hope sighed and reached for his hand to pull herself up. "Fine. But only because I'm cold and tired. I'll keeping looking for an escape tomorrow," she teased lightly.

Marak looked at her pityingly. "Hope, you know that-"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Don't ruin my fun exploring," she said sadly. "I know that I'm probably doomed to remain here forever."

He shrugged and continued with a light tone. "Most wives traditionally start with the large doors located around the kingdoms."

"I am anything but traditional," she told him sternly. Then she grinned wryly. "And I've already tested all of those doors. They aren't very bright, are they?"

As they approached Marak's horse, Hope suddenly stopped. "You only brought one horse?" she asked skeptically.

"He can easily carry us both," he said delicately.

She groaned. "I'm too tired to argue," she mumbled as she got into the saddle. She sat forward stiffly Marak mounted, trying to touch him as little as possible. She quickly gave up when she realized that Marak was a good resting post, and promptly fell asleep. Marak tiredly guided them back to the castle, gently cradling his tired.

That was the first night of nightmares.

After Marak had put his wife to bed, written a few notes and responses for his advisors, and was just falling to sleep, he heard Hope mumble something in her sleep and start tossing in her sheets. Suddenly she let out a long cry.

Marak quickly stood up and tried to gently wake Hope up, wondering if he was ever going to get a good night's sleep. Her eyes flew open and when she saw him she began beating his chest with her arms and scratching at his face, yelling, "Let her go!" Marak grabbed her pummeling arms in an attempt to restrain her, feeling surprise wash over him. He thought the evening had gone reasonably well.

"Hope! _Hope!_ It's Marak. Stop fighting!" Marak finally restrained her. She looked up into his face, confused. Her body went limp and she began crying.

Without thinking, Marak gathered his wife into his arms, smoothing back her hair, wiping tears away from her cheek with the edge of a blanket, and murmuring comforting words. To his surprise, instead of pushing him away, Hope pulled closer and sobbed into his shoulder.

"I'm sorry," she said a little while later, pulling away from him and wiping her eyes. "I didn't mean to hit you."

He rubbed at a scratch.

She rolled her eyes. "_Or_ scratch you. I'm sorry."

"What was it about?" he asked, standing up to pour Hope a glass of water from a pitcher on the table.

She hesitated before answering. "I dreamed of the night my parents were killed."

"I'm sorry to hear that. What happened?" He asked sitting across from Hope on the bed.

"Nothing more than the usual," she said bitterly, staring at the glass in her hands. "My parents were honest folk. One day they were accused of thieving and that night soldiers walked into our camp and killed them in front of Isabel and I. Would have probably killed us too, but they didn't keep a very good watch on us, and we gave them the slip. They were good folk- my parents never stole a crust of bread in their lives. It was after that I attack that I met up with my brothers and they taught me the art of thievery."

"Have you had this nightmare before?"

"Every once in a while since they died… which was around five years ago," she said sadly.

"So young to lose both parents," Marak mused. They sat in silence for several minutes. Hope had never met either of Marak's parents, so she assumed they had passed on as well.

Hope broke the silence and sighed. "Now I'll never be able to get back to sleep. Will you tell me about your parents?"

And so these nights became story time. Whenever Hope would suffer from a nightmare, which happened three or four times a week, Marak would stay up late exchanging human and goblin tales with her. Although this made for a very tired king in the morning, Marak looked forward to these midnight spells more than any other part of his day.

Marak would tell her fanciful stories of ancient goblins and magic, while Hope would regale him with humorous tales from her wanderings. Even Hope found herself feeling much more amicable towards the polite king who dispelled her nightmares. Although she would never admit to it, she almost began looking forward to her evening terrors, and the prospect of undisturbed time with Marak.

During the day, Hope continued to have ambivalent feelings towards him. Sometimes she would smile and greet him, other times he would be met with a frown. Because she didn't know what to make of him, Hope continued to avoid him around the castle.

"Marak, will you tell me about the other races again?" Hope asked after she had finished crying one night. They were settled comfortably in front of the fire with piles of pillows and blankets.

Marak smiled. "Only if you agree to eat dinner with me tomorrow night."

Hope rolled her eyes. "I eat dinner with you every night."

"No, you eat dinner sitting next to me and ignoring me. I want you to come to dinner with me, talk to me, and leave with me."

"I talk to you! Sometimes," she admitted. "When I need you to pass me something," she grinned. When she saw that he wasn't going to relent she sat up straight and raised her arm. "I promise to speak to you at dinner tomorrow. I shall make no other guarantees."

Marak chuckled at her mock solemnity. "As you already know, the First Fathers created the goblin race, which pulls strength from the animals and critters of the world." He shook out his wings for emphasis. "They also created the dwarf race, which draws strength from the rocks and the earth. Scholars believe that in the beginning of time, the First Fathers also made other races, some infused with air or fire, others with the strength of plants and flowers. Although there are no records but fairytales of these creatures, I believe that they are all around us. As elementals. I've spent years studying them. But alas, their magic is lost to us."

"So you think the forest is alive?"

He chuckled. "Of course the forest is alive! Every plant and animal has life coursing through it."

"But I mean really alive- with thoughts and feelings?" Hope asked.

"I would like to believe that there are other races besides goblins, elves and dwarves. There just aren't very many of us."

The next day, as promised, after a long afternoon of sword practice, Hope was standing in her large closet frowning at her reflection in the full length mirror. She had tried to pick out something nice to wear for dinner with Marak, but her new wardrobe was so overwhelming. And she couldn't even figure out how to put half the dresses on!

She settled on a form fitting light green dress with wide sleeves. Small, green gems and pearls decorated the hems and neck. She thought it complimented her eyes, but she wasn't really good at those things.

Marak walked in to find her still staring at her reflection. "Ready for dinner, Hope?" His smiled at her as she swished her full skirts back and forth.

She met his eyes in the mirror. "Do you like it?" she asked nervously, fiddling with one of the sleeves.

"You look stunning." He admired the dress for a moment. "You should wear this necklace. It complements the emeralds." He picked up a delicate silver and green necklace that sparkled.

Hope gaped at him. "These are all emeralds?" she asked wondrously. "I'm wearing a fortune…"

Marak came to stand behind her as he brushed the thick red hair from her neck to fasten the necklace on. If his hands seem to linger on her neck, Hope gave no indication that she noticed.

They silently walked down to the great hall. Hope's hands never stilled; they fussed over her hair, fiddled with bracelets on her wrists, smoothed her skirts.

Just before the entrance hall, Marak stopped her and took her hand, gently massaging it with his own. "You seem nervous," he told her gently.

"Why should I be nervous?" she said lightly, shifting her weight. "I've eaten in the dining hall many times."

Marak raised an eyebrow. Hope rolled her eyes. "I'm hungry. Let's go."

Marak led Hope into the dining hall, her hand still clasped in his own. He led her to the front table.

He felt a tug on his arm. "Marak, why is everyone staring? This is as bad as my first meal in the hall."

"They are all excited to see us together."

"But they see us together every day," she persisted. Marak looked pointedly down at their clasped hand. Hope felt a blush spread across her cheeks.

Unexpectedly, someone (Hope later suspected Sarrasi) began clapping and shouting something. Hope crossed her arms over her chest and glared at the portion of the hall with whom she was now well acquainted; the King's Guard. They cheered and clapped even more because of it.

"What are they saying?" she demanded of Marak.

To her surprise he looked slightly embarrassed. "It's not important," he murmured.

Sarrasi sidled up to Hope's side. "They're begging for a kiss," she grinned mischievously.

"Oh, for goodness sake! Don't goblins have something better to think about?" she demanded.

"The Guardsmen have all placed bets on when our first kiss will be," he whispered quietly.

Before Hope could react to that new piece of information, Marak took her hand and looked down into her eyes. Hope felt her pulse quicken- he wouldn't kiss her now in front of everyone! He gave a flourishing bow over her hand and pressed a very loud kiss into her palm. He then grinned at his subjects, who let out a collective sigh of disappointment, and pulled out Hope's chair for her to sit in.

Hope shook her head, not sure whether to be amused or angry at Marak's antics. Dinner passed in cheerful blur. She was somewhat surprised by how easy it was to talk to Marak in front of all of the goblins- and by how much she enjoyed dinner. Both Marak and Sarrasi kept the evening dialogue light and witty.

Hope and Marak walked slowly back to their rooms. Marak noticed Hope's eyebrow's knitted in a frown.

"Did you enjoy dinner?" he asked as they walked into their rooms.

"Yes," she said slowly, drawing the word out.

"You don't look too thrilled about it," he pointed out.

She sighed unhappily. "I'm confused. I never thought that I would fit in here, let alone have friends. And now I have Sarrasi, and-" She gulped. "And you. I think I'm happy," she added glumly.

Marak laughed and pulled her into an embrace. "Only you could be forlorn about being happy."

"I guess so," she mumbled as she rested her head against his shoulder. "I just never expected to happy here."

He lifted her chin with his hand. "Now," he said very sternly. "Can I see a smile?"

She bared her teeth in a mockery of a grin. He chuckled. "I suppose that will have to do…" he drawled.

She looked up into his black, orb-like eyes and was startled to find so much emotion. Marak tightened his arms around her waist, half expecting Hope to pull away. But she didn't move. He smoothed back a lock of red hair from her face, his eyes questioning. She leaned into his hand.

He slowly bent his head and tenderly brushed his lips against her forehead.

Before he could make his way down to her beautiful, perfect mouth, someone burst loudly into the room. Several someones, in fact.

"Marak, come quickly!"

"Goblins!"

"Your highness, you won't believe what's just happened."

"Goblins! There are goblins out there in our woods."

It took the intruders several seconds before they absorbed their king's current position. Hope blushed and tried vainly to disentangle herself from Marak, who had no intention of letting her go, his arms locked around her waist.

"Sarrasi," Marak said sternly. "What is the meaning of this, and why did it take five goblins to tell me?"

Sarrasi stepped forward from the group of excited goblins. "Marak, please accept my apology for interrupting, but something wonderful has happened! There have been new goblins spotted in the woods. They are requesting to speak to you!"

"What?" he asked, loosening his hold on Hope, who stayed close by his side.

"Marak, I'm sorry I don't have more information but this is what I do know." She couldn't hide the excitement from her voice. "The Elf King sent a message that said a group of goblins tracked down his elf camp looking for our kingdom!"


End file.
